


Grandsin

by venom_for_free



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Also I'm not sorry, Crack, I'm Sorry, If you don't like second hand embaressment this fic is not for you, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:14:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22683808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venom_for_free/pseuds/venom_for_free
Summary: Five times Yuri Plisetsky managed to traumatize his grandfather and one time- Oh. Oh no.--Or: Growing up as a sexually open, reckless young man can come with a lot of uncomfortable situations.
Relationships: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 33
Kudos: 187





	Grandsin

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Греховодник](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29581278) by [WTF Kumys 2021 (fandom_Kumys_2018)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandom_Kumys_2018/pseuds/WTF%20Kumys%202021)



> This took far too long to write and is absolutely not to be taken too serious.  
> Thank you to Taedae, Asagi and Toska for editing, cheerleading, reading and encouraging me to do horrible things.

1.

"Yurochka is a little weird," Nikolai noted as he sat down to pet the lovely little cat at his feet. Potya mewled and butted her head against his hand. She had always been a traitor like this, dodging Yuri just to follow Nikolai and beg him for pets. Even though Yuri was the one dropping treats for her. The world wasn't fair. 

"I'm not weird, stop telling her that. In the end, she'll believe you." 

He huffed and dropped onto his bed, throwing his arm over his eyes. Winters in Russia were cold and dark, so they had to turn on the lights early. Yuri almost lost his eyesight when he entered the apartment and accidentally stared into the white lamp above him. Now he was trying to fix what he could by allowing his eyes a break. 

Which turned out to be a terrible idea because at first, he didn't realise what his grandfather was talking about. His voice flooded in from the living room. It was low and calm, the sound alone more guidance for Yuri than anything his parents ever offered. Nikolai's soft chuckles amused him, especially paired off with Potya's battlecries. Yuri was so enamoured with the idea of the two of them playing in the room right next to him, that he didn't even question the situation. 

Until a minute later. 

"Grandpa? Why _am_ I weird?" 

"I don't know, Yurochka. I've been wondering, too." 

He huffed and finally opened his eyes, arms falling to his sides. 

"Okay, what made you say it?" 

Something was tossed across the room. Yuri heard multiple noises of impact. 

"You made me say it." 

He rolled his eyes and forced himself onto his feet, dragging his body to the entrance of his room. Yuri kicked the backpack he left on the floor aside. 

"Why?"

"Well, who buys their cat a toy and then won't let her have it? I understand there are a lot of plastics in the cat toys from today, but seriously, Yura. Washing them off won't get rid of those." 

Yura turned as white as the wall, and hurried into the living room. 

He hadn't bought cat toys.

And what had been resting on the edge of the sink in his bathroom was not— 

Rounding the corner, Yuri found his grandpa sitting on the floor, Potya in front of him, proudly presenting her prey. And before Yuri could say anything, his grandfather grabbed the anal beads and threw them across the room once more. 

  
  
  


2.

"Yurochka?" 

Yuri brushed his fingers through his long hair, still slightly damp from the shower. He had learned early enough not to rub the towel against it, but to pad it dry instead. You didn't get hair as perfect as his by burning it. 

"Yes?" 

His mirror image looked just as annoyed as he felt, but steam and smears on the glass distorted it further. He brushed his hand over the reflection of his face, feeling only the cold, damp surface. It didn't matter. His body was overheated and his fingers wrinkly, even though he had only taken a shower. It had been a _long_ shower. The thought of it made Yuri's body tingle pleasantly again, but before his hands could start to wander anew— 

"Yurochka, your phone." 

He didn’t feel an urgent need to reply with more than a grunt. There were other things he had to think about. Good things. Lovely things. 

"I didn't know you had contact with your father again." 

Why was he still talking? Yuri bit his lips and brushed his hands over his abs—

Wait. His father? 

"I don't?" 

He stopped in his tracks. 

"He just sent you a text! Wanted to know if you can meet later?" 

Yuri blinked, trying to rid his mind of the fog casting a haze over his thoughts, just like the steam on the bathroom mirror. 

"Why would he do that? I haven't talked to him in years." 

He brushed his palm across the mirror again, wanting to see his image. JJ would be proud—the fucking arrogant, self-loving asshole. He scowled and turned around. 

"But it says it right here! 'Daddy-Are you free tonight?'." 

Yuri suddenly felt hot, then cold. 

_Oh, shit._

"Do you want me to text him back? I could just … I can text him ‘no’ from my phone so you don't have to interact with him?" 

"Grandpa, no!" 

He didn't have time to grab a bathrobe from the rack, this was a matter of life and death. Yuri ran from the bathroom, dressed in only a pair of boxers he had thrown on inside out—It was that or no clothes at all—ignoring Potya's interested stares. He turned the corner to the living room. 

Nikolai was sitting in his chair, Yuri's phone in his hand. 

"I bet he wants to throw a fit about your mother again! I can't believe he's texting you! I can't believe you even have his number after all that you've been through, Yurochka. Why would you—" 

He looked up, then frowned at his grandson. 

"Were you in such a hurry to read his vile words? To get back to him?" 

"Grandpa. Please … give me my phone." 

Yuri knew what was about to happen. 

Nikolai scrunched his nose. 

"No. I bet he's trying to convince you to give his sorry ass another chance. Yurochka, you really shouldn't do that." 

"Okay. Okay, I promise. All you ask. Just give me my phone." 

Instead of handing it over, however, Nikolai clicked the message, but it was locked. The preview was visible, but he couldn't answer. Yuri sighed in deep relieve, thanking all the gods he knew and didn't know for modern security meas— 

"Give me your thumb." 

"No! It’s my message! You will not read it!" 

"Yurochka, I'm so sorry. You know I respect you and your privacy, but I need to know what he's telling you. Please understand my point of view. I'm just scared. You are … far too eager. He hurt you so much. Please. Let me see." 

"Grandpa, I can't. I really can't." 

Yuri blushed so deeply, his toes seemed to color. He knew because he didn't dare to look anywhere else. After all, he was still mostly naked, lightly dripping on the carpet. 

"That is not my father." 

"I know. This is the man who graciously donated semen to gift me my beautiful grandson. But …" 

Nikolai froze mid-sentence as a preview of another message, this time a picture, popped up. Yuri didn't dare ask, instead he blinked a few times in an attempt to brace himself and together with his grandpa, he stared at the proud, fully erect dick in the frame.

Nikolai choked. 

"This is not your father …" 

"No … This is _not_ my father." 

  
  


3.

Yuri felt ready. 

Well, not really, but he supposed there wasn't a time to actually feel ready for this. Ever. So he would take what he could get and run with that. And what he had was a laptop, a video he knew he liked a lot, lube and a condom. He wasn't sure he would need the condom, though he supposed it was better for sanitary reasons. Cleaning toys was always a mess, and after the cat and the beads, he had become much more careful. 

Especially because he didn't need his grandpa to finding _that_. 

Yuri's eyes drifted to the last item on the bed. Initially, he had been unsure if vibrant green was a good color for a toy, but now that he looked at the replica of what could only be described as a giant cock, he was happy it wasn't skin-colored. That would make it creepy. Creepier than it already was. Yuri was convinced that thing equalled a fucking horse cock. But when Mila had gushed over it, it sounded so nice. And maybe Yuri had forgotten in his haste to replicate the mind-bending pleasure she spoke of, that she had a different physical situation to work with. Damn it. Damn her. 

And then there was the other matter: Beka. 

Otabek would visit him next week. They hadn't seen each other for quite a while. He would move closer in the near future, but right now, all Yuri had of him were frustrating Skype calls and wet hands. 

Soon it would be different. And he wanted to be ready. 

Yuri looked at it again. Damn.

He knew it was a bad decision. He knew, but he had already paid for it. And Mila had made it sound so _good._

Trying couldn't hurt, right? 

He started the video and rolled the condom onto the toy. Shit. Had it gotten bigger when Yuri looked away? 

_Take your mind off of it._

He tried to focus on the video. Nikolai was grocery shopping, so Yuri estimated he had at least another hour to shove this monstrosity up his ass and cum before he had to be clean and proper again. Though, thinking about it, he was pretty sure he'd be stuck with a bit of a limp. 

What he wouldn't do for love. 

He tried to hype himself up and eventually, it worked. Yuri's curiosity got the best of him, just as it had when he ordered it in the first place. 

Video. 

Touching. 

Stretching. 

He knew the drill. 

And since he was alone, he didn't need to be quiet or cute. His leg was propped up and Yuri lay on his side, one of his hands between his legs. It didn't take him long to work a finger in, then two, then three. With porn to distract him, it was easier to relax. But then he made the mistake of looking over and clenched. 

How was _that_ supposed to fit into him? It was easily bigger than four of his fingers pressed together. 

No. He was thinking like a quitter, and Yuri Plisetsky was a lot of things, but a quitter wasn’t one of them. He took a deep breath and made sure everything was well lubricated. Then he got onto his knees, his ass positioned over the toy. Even though he wasn't religious, Yuri mumbled a silent prayer, then started to lower himself. 

He groaned immediately. 

How the hell did this feel so good? 

Was it even good or was it just the feeling of triumph? 

Yuri had barely gotten started, but already, he felt full. Not lengthwise, with only the head barely inside, but the girth was something to try accommodating with his small body. 

Should he send Beka a picture when he bottomed out? And another shot of the toy? Well … Yuri was unsure if he'd be able to do that. Bottoming out. But sending pictures ... Those he liked a lot. And after finding out he could repress previews … 

His own moan startled him out of his thoughts. Yuri blinked his eyes open. When had he closed them? The monitor was black, and the video was over, a new one on autoplay, but he had been enraptured with the new toy up his ass. He worked the tip in and wiggled gently up and down so the slightly flared head would stimulate him even more. 

Another groan and a small smile. Oh, this was worth it. It would take a while and he'd limp later, but it was _so_ worth it.

Moaning helped get him back in the proper mindset. Not that he could have stopped, even if he wanted to. 

Yuri liked listening to himself, but this blessing came with a curse, and he realised that just a few moments later when he was halfway down the thick shaft, and his phone rang. 

_Shit._

There was no way he could answer right now. He ignored it and slid further down. Pleasant sensation. Pleasant sensation. _Please. Come on._ But the phone was still ringing. 

Maybe it was Beka? Maybe he wanted to listen to him? That would be fun, right? His left hand scrambled for the phone—there was no way he'd put his soiled hand onto his prized possession. 

_Grandpa._

Of course it was his grandpa. 

Couldn't he just text? 

Yuri watched with mortification as the phone kept ringing. He couldn't answer it. He was still moaning. And the toy was halfway in. There was no way he would get it out silently.

Fuck everything. 

His phone lit up for the fifth time. Nikolai Plisetsky was nothing if not persistent. 

Okay. He got this. Just … he would just have to sit still. 

"Grandpa?" 

"Yurochka!" 

Yuri winced at the voice in his ear in combination with the tree trunk inside of him. 

"Yurochka, are you oka—what is this noise?" 

His eyes widened and Yuri slammed the laptop shut. 

"Nothing!" 

Had his voice always been this high? He tried again, this time actively composing himself. 

"Nothing, Grandpa. I was watching tennis." 

"Ooooh. You have so many different interests, Yurochka! Sport has always been your thing, hasn't it?" 

Yuri cleared his throat to hide how desperate he was. Gravity wasn't doing him and his thighs any favors. 

"So … why are you calling, again?" 

"Oh! I wanted to make piroshki for you! And I wasn't sure, do we still have flour?" 

"I … uhm … Grandpa, I'm a little …" 

"Yura! Pause that game and continue it later. Do you want piroshki or not?" 

Oh, yes, he did. Very much, but even more importantly, he wanted to not waddle around the flat with the silicone equivalent of his forearm shoved up his ass, thank you very much. He tried to back up a little, but a groan ripped from his throat, and he turned white. 

"Oh, come on. It's not that much of a task to check the kitchen cabinets for flour. I don't even—" 

"I'LL GO! I'LL GO! GIVE ME JUST …" 

He clenched his eyes together and in the last second, realised he could mute his mic. Once that was done, he rid himself of the toy with a sound ridiculously close to a petrified whimper and a hearty moan. 

Fuck. 

Was it really out? 

It didn't feel like it. Sure, he felt empty, but the stretch … 

"Yurochka? Yura! Are you okay? Do you need me to come home?" 

"NO!" 

He jumped up—bad idea—and tried to make it to his door, but his legs gave in halfway. 

"Yuri, can you hear me? Should I call an ambulance? I'm heading home! Stay where you are!" 

_No,_ he thought weakly when he noticed he hadn't unmuted himself. He would _not_ stay on all fours with his obscenely stretched ass in the air. But when he tried to move, he really pondered the idea of an ambulance. 

"No, grandpa … I'm good. I just had to … mute myself for a second. Please … just buy the flour. And don't hurry. I'm here, waiting for you." 

Though Yuri hoped that when his grandpa arrived, he _wouldn't_ be there anymore. 

4.

"That is how you want to go out?" 

Grandpa looked at Yuri as if he were crazy. 

"Yes. It's Halloween. I'm a cat."

"You're a burlesque dancer with fluffy ears!" 

Nikolai walked around him, frowning at Yuri's costume. 

Okay. Maybe there was _some_ reason to frown. Maybe Halloween was also Otabek's birthday, and Yuri wasn't dressed like this for some weird party, but … well. Grandpa didn't need to know what they got up to in bed. He knew too much already.

Halloween was the perfect reason to be a slutty nurse. Or a slutty princess. Or in Yuri's case, a slutty cat. And he wanted to surprise his lover. Beka deserved nice things from time to time, too. So Yuri had gotten into a tight little bodysuit that showed off all the right things. He didn't mean to wear it outside, after all. It was pure chance Grandpa found him while he pulled up the thigh-high leather boots, bent over to tie them properly. 

At least it was his face his Grandpa was staring at. 

Yuri shrugged the smallest leather jacket in the world over his shoulders. Nikolai liked to ask if it was from the children's section. Yuri always said no. Like a liar. But today, he was spared the eternal question by Otabek ringing the doorbell. 

Bless him. 

Yuri couldn't wait to get out of there. He hurried to the door and ripped it open, beaming at his boyfriend. Beka looked stunned, so he guessed he had succeeded in his birthday preparations. He was about to throw himself around Otabek's neck, when Nikolai mumbled from behind him, "How is this attached?". 

What followed seemed to happen in slow motion and at the same time, all at once. 

Yuri moving forward. 

A pained, horrified scream. 

A quiet, confused "Oh?". 

The sensation of burning up from the inside while he was split open. 

The sound of his grandfather throwing something away with a panicked shriek. 

The last thing Yuri saw in Otabek's beautiful, dark eyes before he wished the pain would make him pass out, was the reflection of his tail plug tumbling down the hallway. 

  
  


5.

"Come in!" 

Yuri giggled and held the door open, but only a little bit because the old wood was creaky. He pressed himself through the small entryway he had created, then gestured for his boyfriend to do the same. 

Otabek tried, but it looked rather ridiculous, and Yuri couldn't stop another bubble of laughter falling from his lips. The broad man wasn't meant to walk through small cracks, and it showed. Though, everything seemed to be funny right now because he was that pleasant amount of drunk somewhere between 'hating everyone and everything' and 'Yuri Katsuki at parties'. 

Once they forced themselves through the small opening into the hallway, Yuri pushed off his trademark animal print sneakers, and hung the jacket that barely kept him warm since the club clothes he wore beneath it were _that_ skimpy. 

But Beka liked them, and that was what mattered, wasn’t it? 

Two strong hands grabbed his hips and held him in place, but only for a moment. Then Yuri was pulled back and straight against his boyfriend, ass to crotch, just as he preferred to sleep, too. Not that they would sleep right now, though. 

He hadn't forced his muscular body into those tiny, tight clothes just to fold them up and go to bed. And the hand that wandered between his legs proved that Yuri was not alone with that thought. 

He giggled again, pressing into the satisfying stimulation before he realised it might be a bad idea. 

"Come on, Beka. I don't want Grandpa to wake up. Or worse, come looking for the source of the noises." 

"What noises?" 

The voice in his ear was too charming, too alluring. But he knew better than to fuck around in the middle of the hallway. 

"Let's … at least go to my room …" 

Yuri wrapped his arms around and grabbed Otabek's hips, pulling him forward again to renew the sensation. 

"Your room is directly next to his bedroom. I thought you didn't want to wake him? We both know you can't keep quiet." 

Yuri shuddered. That deep voice had been the source of more than one bad decision in his life. But here he was, hard and aching, buzzed enough to be careless. 

"Living room." 

Otabek spun him around and grabbed beneath his thighs, lifting the smaller man so Yuri could wrap his legs around his waist while Otabek carried him. He sat down on the sofa, Yuri straddling him. Big hands dipped under the tight waistband and calloused fingers brushed against creamy white skin. 

"You've been very naughty tonight, riling me up like this." Otabek pushed his index finger under the elastic material of the tiny string Yuri was wearing and let it snap against his ass, earning a quiet groan. Yes, it was good they weren't doing that in his bedroom. 

Yuri grinned and pushed his hips forward, grinding against his boyfriend. He loved pretending to be in control, even though both of them knew it wasn't correct. 

"Maybe you should punish me then." 

That was what he had waited for. Otabek lifted his hand and pushed two fingers into Yuri's mouth, watching with blown eyes while the blond sucked on them as if they were a treat. 

A few seconds later, his hand was back between his lover's cheeks and Yuri was moaning his name like a prayer. 

It wasn't always like this. Not every evening was rough, demanding hands and dragging nails and biting mouths. But tonight was one of those and Yuri loved it. 

His eyes fluttered, small moans falling from his lips whenever Otabek's fingers pushed in again and spread, opened him up like a flower in the sunshine. 

He felt like a flower, so beautiful and fragile and _free_. Usually, Yuri didn't enjoy those kinds of feelings, but with Otabek, they were okay. Pleasant, even. Although, he would never admit that to anybody else. 

A third finger brushed his entrance and Yuri hated it with every fiber of his being, but he knew they had to stop. At least for a second. He was drunk, but not stupid. Between kisses and wandering hands, it took him two more minutes to tear himself away and hurry to the bedroom. When he returned, Yuri held a condom and lube in his hands, his body wrapped in a blanket. 

"Really?" 

Otabek grinned at his partner. 

"You can run around in the tiniest crop tops in Russian winter, but now you need a blanket in here?" He was just teasing, though. Yuri's comfort was his highest priority. 

Yuri grinned and opened his blanket. Beneath was the formerly mentioned tiny crop top and nothing else. 

"Oh." 

Yuri gave him an almost predatory grin as he crawled into Otabek's lap again. He straddled him once more and spread his legs wide, before he wrapped the blanket around them both. 

A tiny cocoon of love. And lust. Mostly lust right now. 

Otabek's hands wandered his body, roaming the soft skin beneath his warm fingertips and Yuri shivered with anticipation and want. 

"Please …" 

And just like that, Otabek's fingers disappeared inside of him once more, and 

Yuri took comfort in the sensation. He was familiar with the girth and warmth of his boyfriend's fingers, with the way they worked inside him and brushed over all the right spots. They had gotten used to each other, first as friends and later as lovers. Yuri hid another needy moan in his partner's neck. They couldn't afford to be found like that. But he also couldn't afford to stop here, so … 

"Move. Please." 

Otabek nodded, more serious than someone with this amount of drinks in his bloodstream should be. He was slow, careful. It was endlessly frustrating. Yuri wanted more. Faster. They didn't have all night, and even if they did, he didn’t want to waste it on prep. 

It took another whine, and a whispered, dangerously breathy, "Please, Daddy", before Otabek pulled his fingers out. Yuri protested immediately but was shushed with a kiss. 

When he eventually realised that Otabek was trying to free his dick, Yuri backed far enough away to allow for the hectic movements. This was in his interest after all, even his drunk brain realised that. And once the object of desire was presented, Yuri grabbed the condom and lube. He wouldn't wait for Otabek to do it himself. He wanted to get this party started. With practised ease, he rolled the condom over his hard cock and drizzled some lube across it. 

"Do you think that is enough?" 

"We will know in a second. But I'm not explaining to grandpa why there are spots on his sofa, no matter if lube or cum." 

Otabek actually blushed, and Yuri wanted to rip his heart out to present it to his partner. 

"Therefore, the condom." 

"Therefore, the condom." 

Once everything was properly prepared—Otabek checked twice—they finally managed to get to what they had started half an hour ago in the hallway. 

Damn. Yuri lifted himself up on his knees and slowly moved over the waiting body. He wanted to groan as he slid down into Otabek's lap, but only allowed a tiny sound to fall from his lips.

"Fuck, yes." 

He sat on top of his partner like an overly enthusiastic cowgirl, rocking his hips to the imaginary pace of a bull or horse. 

"Fuck me, Beka." 

"What happened to 'Please, Daddy'?"

Otabek smirked and held his hips still, allowing Yuri to adjust, even if the younger man didn't feel like he needed to. He never felt like he needed to. He'd regret it in the morning. 

Yura was in the middle of more excited bouncing, when a door creaked. Otabek grabbed Yuri and let both of them fall to the side on the sofa. Yuri squeaked, but before they could even think about discussing it, Nikolai dragged himself into the living room. 

His eyes were fixed on the kitchenette. 

"Oh, good morning boys. How come you are already up? I thought you were out late?" 

_Shit._

Was it that late already? And how should they explain their situation? 

While the older man had his back to them, they scrambled to pull the blanket over their bodies to hide the fact that they were still connected in the most primal way. At least it looked like snuggling now. Kinda. 

Yuri’s face burned as he hid against Otabek's chest. 

"We were out, yes. But when we came home, we …" 

He looked at Otabek for help, ready to throw _him_ under the bus, too. 

"... We were afraid to wake you. We wanted to watch some videos on our phones, and it would have been too loud in the bedroom, So we got the blanket and snuggled up. We must have fallen asleep." 

Bless Otabek for his ability to lie. Bless Yuri for taking his clothes off in the bedroom, so that there was no evidence laying around. 

"Huh. That's lovely, boys. So what's your plan for today?" Nikolai popped a piece of bread into the toaster and glanced at them for a second, smiling softly, before turning back to the toaster. 

Sudden movement made Yuri tense. 

"Fuck, are you crazy?!" 

He hissed into Otabek's ear. 

"Why would you thrust?!" 

"Because I'm getting soft, and you didn't want any spots, remember?!" 

Otabek hissed back. 

Yuri groaned, his face burning. 

"Pardon?" 

Nikolai looked over at them again, then frowned. "I didn't hear that." 

"He said we should go to bed soon. Since we barely slept all night." 

Otabek's voice was far too calm for the way he rolled his hips. 

"Oh, sure. Sure. Please, go ahead." 

Nikolai pointed at the living room door and smiled. 

_Shit._

"Uh ... no. It's fine. It's ... nice to spend some time with you!" Yuri blurted, trying to save the situation. 

Nikolai seemed pleased with that and finished preparing his sandwich, then sat on his armchair while he ate. "How was your night?" 

"Uhm … eventful." Yuri gave him a pained grin, and Nikolai's expression tilted to worry. 

"Was it bad?" 

"No, no. Not at all!" 

Both men tried to appease him at the same time, scared he would want to know more details. 

"O … kay." 

He furrowed his brow. 

"I'll go and get out of my bathrobe now. Proper clothes for a proper man." 

Yuri's heart hurt at how proud his grandfather looked. He wanted to be swallowed by the ground. 

Once Nikolai was gone, they hurriedly straightened out Otabek's clothes and wrapped Yuri in the blanket, then rushed to the bedroom. When the door fell close behind him, they sighed. It wasn't the kind of relief they had expected from this adventure, but that didn't matter. 

"That was … wow." 

Yuri was still shaking with adrenaline. 

"I know! We almost didn’t get away!" 

Their hushed conversation was broken by a concerned voice from the living room. 

"Yurochka … why is there a bottle of massage oil on the sofa?" 

_Almost._

+1. 

"This is disgusting." 

Yuri paced the room like a caged animal. 

"How could he do that to me? To us? This is just … wrong." 

Otabek tried to calm his boyfriend, who had been freaking out since leaving their bedroom half an hour ago. He had returned in a hurry, face red and shining with nervous sweat.

"What is going on?" 

"Grandpa!" 

Despite Yuri seeming to think this was a sufficient answer, Otabek shook his head, confusion written over his usually stoic features. 

"This is not as helpful as you might think." 

Yuri made a gesture as if he were trying to swipe everything away; his grandpa, Beka's confusion, whatever he had seen out there. 

"It's absolutely improper. Scandalous!" 

Otabek rolled his eyes. He knew it made no sense to try and talk to Yuri like this. 

"Why don't you sit down?" 

"WHERE? IN THE LIVING ROOM, WHERE GRANDPA DEFILES OUR SOFA?" 

"Waitwaitwaitwaitwait." 

Otabek shook his head, none the wiser but instead even more confused. 

"He's doing what?" 

"He's nasty! He's being nasty, Beka!" 

His eyes were blown wide, torn open in honest disgust. 

"Worse than we were after … that one party, when we came home drunk and … you know?"

Yuri nodded wordlessly. Otabek finally stood and grabbed him, pulling his partner against his chest. 

"Breathe. Then start at the beginning. What exactly happened?" 

"He's ... he said … this morning …" 

The blond shook his head, his golden hair flying around his blotchy, stress reddened face. 

"What did he say?" 

"He said … he has a date today." 

_Oh, no._ Otabek closed his eyes and hugged Yuri even tighter, kissing the top of his head. 

Most people were scared of the prospect of their grandparents being sexually active. 

If Yuri had found his grandpa in the living room … 

"You have to make them stop." 

Yuri's voice wasn’t more than a whisper. 

"I do?" 

He was answered with a determined nod. 

"But I can't just go out there and …" 

"Beka it's DISGUSTING you HAVE to stop them!" 

He tilted his head, searching Yuri's eyes. 

"And you think your grandpa would rather listen to me than you?" 

"No." 

Big puppy eyes blinked up at him. 

"But _she_ might. You're intimidating." 

"I'm short." 

"But you wear leather jackets! Go!" 

He shoved his boyfriend out of the room. 

Otabek braced himself what he would have to see. Had Nikolai found out about the concept of Viagra? Was the woman their age? Oh, god. What if they were in a scandalous position and—

"Otabek." 

He raised his gaze and came eye to eye with two fully clothed adults sipping coffee from fine China. Nonetheless, he immediately understood Yuri's horror. 

"It's so lovely you came out to say hi to Lilia, too!" 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> > Thank you, as always, to my wonderful editor, and also, to you as the reader.  
> I'm also on  
> [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/venom-for-free)[, Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/venom_for_free/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/venom_for_free)


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